


Secrets that Haunt

by Konekorain



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Domestic Violence, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konekorain/pseuds/Konekorain
Summary: Everyone has secrets. Not everybody's secrets can kill. Wilson's secrets come back to haunt him not long after he and House begin a relationship. Can they survive it? Or were they built to break?
Relationships: Greg House/James Wilson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first foray into the House fandom. I've enjoyed writing this, so far. I hope you'll enjoy reading it!

James Wilson was happy. For the first time since before he was in college, he was truly happy. He smiled contentedly as he looked across the pillows at the man he he had been so deeply in love with since that night in New Orleans so long ago. Wilson raised a hand and gently ran it through House's mussed, graying-brown hair. House drew in a deep breath and stretched his long body out languidly, clear, blue eyes fluttering open. Wilson smiled brightly at him when House covered the younger man's hand with his own.

“Good morning.” Wilson said softly, not wanting to break the sense of reverence in the room.

“Morning.” House rumbled, voice like gravel. House pulled Wilson's hand down and kissed the back of it, smiling gently. A pretty, pink flush spread across Wilson's face at the attention and he cleared his throat.

“We should get ready for work.” he said. House smirked.

“Or...” he said suggestively, snaking a hand up onto Wilson's naked hip. “We could go for round two.” He waggled his eyebrows and Wilson couldn't help but laugh, despite the deep blush on his face. He leaned over and captured House's lips in a slow, sweet kiss.

He should have known it couldn't last.

~x~x~x~

House and Wilson were two hours late to work that day. They ended up going for rounds three and four in the shower while they were trying to get ready. They had gotten reamed out by Cuddy for not calling or answering their phones or pagers. Then, they had gotten a soft smile and a 'congratulations' because, obviously, she'd figured it out. It surprised them both, but House just brushed it off with a scoff and Wilson blushed, muttering a small 'thank you.' After that, they both retreated to the elevator where they rode to their floor in silence. When they got to their offices, House shocked Wilson by kissing him chastely in the middle of the hallway. They were in clear view of his fellows. Wilson had been sure that House would want to keep them a secret, at least for now. When they broke apart, Wilson looked at House with wide eyes, ignoring the blatant open-mouthed stares of the doctors behind the glass wall beside them.

“I love you.” House said gently, rubbing Wilson's cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I want the world to know you're mine.” Wilson smiled at him and they kissed again before they went their separate ways. “See you at lunch?” House called behind him as he opened his office door.

“Of course.” Wilson said, walking into his office to get his day started.

~x~x~x~

Wilson had spent his day daydreaming about House. He was so incredibly happy, he didn't know what to do with himself. He blames his deliriously joyful state for not feeling it coming, the storm on the horizon. He should have known. He should have been prepared. But, he wasn't.

Wilson went downstairs at eleven for clinic duty. He was making his way through patients steadily. He was about to call the next patient back when a pair of hands covered his eyes. Wilson grinned, immediately thinking he knew who it was.

“House! What are you doing? I thought we were going to meet for lunch!” he laughed. He shivered when he felt breath close to his ear.

“Yes, let's go to lunch! Did you miss me?” a husky voice whispered in his ear. He froze at that voice, white-hot terror washing through him. When he had regained use of his body, Wilson ripped the hands off his face and whipped around to face the man the voice belonged to.

“What are you doing here, Bobby?!” he hissed, panic beginning to set in. Bobby Sanchez had been his boyfriend when he was in college, before he went away to medical school. Things had _not_ turned out well. Wilson could feel his eyes filling with tears. He needed to get away. He needed House. He felt his breathing pick up and his face get hot. He was going to have a panic attack right here, in front of everyone. Wilson tried to take deep breaths and will the panic attack away.

“What, can't I catch up with an old lover?” he questioned, deep voice deceptively innocent sounding. Wilson felt a hysterical, humorless laugh bubble out of his chest at that.

“No! No, you cannot!” Wilson was trying to keep his voice down, but he felt his voice rising in pitch as the hysteria and desperation he felt rose. Bobby narrowed his eyes and scowled at Wilson and he immediately regretted standing up to the man. It was an expression he remembered, one that didn't bode well for him. “Bobby, I-I-I'm s-sorry-” he tried, but was cut off as said man grabbed his arm and practically dragged him toward the stairwell. After he made sure that nobody was in there, Bobby spoke.

“Don't you _ever_ speak to me like that again! _Especially_ not in public!” he seethed. Wilson tried to make himself smaller. He looked down fiddling with a button on his shirt. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Bobby drew back and backhanded Wilson across the face. The sound echoed in the stairwell and Wilson's head hit the wall behind him in the small space, dazing him. He fell to the ground in a heap and put a hand to his cheek. He could feel blood trickling down his split lip. Bobby crouched down and lifted Wilson's face by the chin.

“I'm staying at the Marriott. Room 529. Be there at eight. If you don't show or if you tell anyone about me or this, well, I still know where your parents live. And, I think I'll kill this House person too. Just for fun, of course.” He kissed Wilson's bloody lips harshly and left the stairwell. Wilson felt hot tears fall down his face until he was sobbing uncontrollably. He thought he was done with Bobby and his threats. Wilson stayed in the stairwell until he was able to get control of himself and clean himself up.

~x~x~x~

House was already sitting at a table, looking bored, when Wilson finally got to the cafeteria. Wilson's mind was racing with how to explain the cut on his lip to his partner. Because, he knew he would ask about it. House was nothing, if not perceptive. Wilson sat down at the table with his tray and he saw the exact moment when the annoyance in House's eyes dissipated and concern took over. He reached a hand out and gently turned Wilson's face so he could examine the injury. Wilson felt like he could cry all over again.

“What happened?” House asked softly.

“Nothing.” Wilson said. “A patient was having a seizure and whacked me in the face. It's fine.” House didn't look quite like he bought that excuse, but he let the subject drop and began pilfering fries off of Wilson's tray.

~x~x~x~

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter! I hope you enjoy!

Wilson sighed and put his head on his crossed arms. He was sitting at his desk in his office and it was nearing the end of the day. He didn't want to go to Bobby's hotel room tonight, but he knew he had to. He knew he had made a mistake when House's name crossed his lips earlier that day. Now, Bobby knew there was someone special to him. House was in danger as long as Bobby was around, so Wilson had already made the decision that he would do whatever he had to to keep the man he loved safe. He was brought out of his musings of despair when the door opened. Wilson popped up when he saw House. He checked his watch. _Damn._ he thought. The end of the day had snuck up on him.

“Ready to go?” House asked, limping into the room. Wilson winced. This was going to be hard.

“Not yet.” he said simply. House raised a brow.

“You _are_ coming over tonight, right? I figured we could have dinner, pick up where we left off this morning.” he said.

“No, I uh, I have a lot of paperwork to do. I'm going to be up late.” Wilson tried to lie. He looked down at his desk after House's eyes boring holes into his soul got to be too much.

“Really?” House asked softly. Wilson could tell that the cynical man didn't believe him. He couldn't blame him, _he_ wouldn't believe him either.

“Yes.” he answered weakly. House inspected him for another moment before turning around and leaving the office, leaning more heavily on his cane than when he entered. When the door closed, Wilson blew out a breath and let his head drop on the desk with a _thud_. Tears were burning his eyes. He couldn't believe he was already hurting House. He rolled his head over and looked at the clock. 7:15. He had to leave, if he was going to make it to the Marriott by eight.

~x~x~x~

As he stood outside of room 529, Wilson couldn't stop shaking. He raised a hand to knock on the door, but put it back down and turned, pacing down the hall a bit. He knew what waited for him behind that door. He had lived it before and barely escaped. It had taken years of therapy to put it behind him. Could he walk into that again? Then he thought about House. How his clear, blue eyes crinkle in the corners when he's amused by something Wilson said. His smile, the genuine one that he only shows to Wilson. How his heart beats faster whenever House enters the room. He _knows_ Bobby will follow through on his threat to kill House and Wilson can't let that happen. _Won't_ let it happen. Finding his resolve, he walks back to the door and knocks. When it opens, Bobby's wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and Wilson can smell shampoo. He feels dead inside as Bobby smiles a sinister smile and steps aside, allowing Wilson to step across the threshold.

As soon as the door was closed, Bobby issued an order.

“Strip.” Wilson looked at him with panic in his eyes.

“Bobby, why did you come back?” he asked, trying to stall. Bobby sneered.

“You got in my head. I couldn't stop thinkin' about you. Figured I would come make you mine again.” His expression changed then. He smiled dreamily. “We had such a great relationship in college! I've never had another one like it.” Wilson felt sick to his stomach. Yeah, he remembered their relationship. It might have been great for Bobby, but it was hell for him. “Now, strip!” Bobby ordered again, harsher this time. Wilson's fingers trembled as he slowly took his jacket off then moved to work the knot on his tie. By the time he had undressed down to his boxers, Wilson had tears of shame burning his eyes. He looked up at Bobby, face hot with embarrassment, and then bowed his head in resignation. Bobby eyed him hungrily, but scowled when he got to the boxers.

“Take 'em off.” he growled huskily. Wilson was shaking like a leaf, but decided to stand his ground over this one thing. He just couldn't bring himself to take his boxers off.

“No.” he said softly, voice quivering. Bobby looked surprised.

“What did you just say to me?!” he asked incredulously, as if Wilson saying no was such a shocking thing.

“No.” Wilson said again, a little firmer this time. He braced himself for the blow he knew was about to come. Sure enough, Bobby backhanded him across the face so hard he fell to the floor. The enraged man crouched down closer to Wilson's level.

“You don't _ever_ tell me no!” he hissed. Bobby stood, kicking Wilson in the ribs for good measure. Wilson let out a cry of pain; he was sure he had a cracked rib or two from the force of the blow. “You want me to be mean, I can be man.” Bobby said as he moved to grab Wilson by his hair. Wilson took hold of the man's wrist as Bobby hauled him up off the floor and onto the bed. Once they were both on the large, king-size bed, Bobby forcefully pulled Wilson's boxers down and off his legs. At this point, Wilson had tears running down his face hot and fast. He couldn't stop them. Bobby grabbed the towel around his own waist and pulled it off, throwing it on the floor. Wilson cried harder when he noticed that Bobby was already hard. As usual, the hitting and yelling was like foreplay to him. Bobby crawled over him and drank in the sight before him, lust in his eyes.

“I've missed this.” he said in a husky voice. It took everything in Wilson to not bring his knee up and hit Bobby in the crotch. He couldn't though. It would only serve to make the other man even angrier. He had House to think about.

Bobby gripped Wilson and rolled him over onto his stomach, crushing his head into the pillows with one hand as he pulled his hips back against his own with the other. Wilson muffled his cry of pain in the pillows when Bobby thrust into him forcibly, no lubricant, nothing. Bobby immediately started thrusting vigorously, not waiting for Wilson to acclimate to the intrusion. Wilson squeezed his eyes shut and tried to lose himself in his thoughts while Bobby sought pleasure in his body. He thought about House. About how he could always make Wilson feel better, no matter what had happened. About how their relationship was so new but it felt so right. He thought about how House looked so vulnerable that night that Wilson finally told him he loved him. Before he knew it, Bobby was grunting in completion and Wilson could feel a warm wetness filling him. Bobby pulled out and collapsed to Wilson's left. Bobby rubbed Wilson's back, drawing mindless patterns on his skin almost lovingly, while Wilson sobbed quietly, not looking at the other man.

“So, who is this House guy? You seemed pretty happy when you thought I was him.” Bobby asked curiously.

“Nobody.” Wilson mumbled. He didn't want to give Bobby any more information than he already had about House.

“C'mon...is he your boyfriend?” Bobby laughed when Wilson flinched. “You always did have a shit poker face Jamie.” he said chuckling. Suddenly, he became serious again. “You're breaking up with him.” he said sternly. Wilson's eyes widened and he sat up with a wince, whirling around to face Bobby.

“What?! Why?!” he asked, voice taking on a higher pitch.

“You really like this guy, don't you? Too bad. You're mine and _only_ mine. Get cleaned up. I'll drive you over there. You're breaking up with him tonight. And, if you don't, I'll just kill him. Whichever one you would prefer.” Bobby stretched out on the bed as Wilson just sat there for a moment. Finally, after he processed everything, he slowly got up and went to the bathroom to get a shower.

As he stood numbly in the shower, Wilson watched blood swirl down the drain. It seemed he was bleeding from where Bobby had raped him. The water was so hot that it was leaving his skin bright red, but he couldn't feel it. All he could think about was what House would say when Wilson broke up with him after being together for only twenty-four hours. The dreaded tears came again and Wilson crumpled in the shower, his heart aching.

~x~x~x~

House was watching TV, alone in his apartment, when there was a hesitant knock on his door. He thought about ignoring it, but something in him told him to answer it. Grabbing his cane, he limped to the door and opened it. He smiled when he saw Wilson standing on the other side, but the smile fell when he studied the man's expression.

“Are you okay? What's wrong?” House asked. Wilson sighed. He was pale.

“We need to talk.” he said. That sentence immediately set House on edge, but he motioned Wilson inside the apartment.

“Okay.” When he closed the door, he turned to look at his partner. Wilson looked tired and heartbroken. And, House had noticed how gingerly he was moving. He was worried about the man. Had someone hurt him? Before he could think about it too much, Wilson was speaking.

“I don't think this is going to work out.” he said morosely. House felt like he had been stabbed in the heart, but he had to ask.

“What do you mean.” He saw Wilson visibly flinch at the coldness of his tone. He couldn't help it though, he was shutting down, as usual.

“This...relationship. It's not going to work out. It was stupid of me to start one.” Thoughts of Wilson being hurt forgotten, House was flooded with anger.

“Are you cheating on me?!” he asked, voice raised. Wilson's breathing hitched. “Oh, this is great! You couldn't even keep it in your pants for one day?! One day! You're pathetic!” he yelled, all vitriol and anger. He was so angry, he didn't notice the hurt tears filling Wilson's eyes or the way he hung his head in shame.

“It doesn't matter, we can't be together.” Wilson said, voice wobbly. House moved to the door of the apartment and flung it open.

“Get out.” he said quietly, seething. Wilson didn't move. He couldn't move. “Get out!” House yelled, causing Wilson to flinch again. He moved to the open door and left without another word. House didn't look at him until he was disappearing around the corner in the hall. One day, it would occur to him that there was a bloodstain on the back of Wilson's pants. His anger, however, wouldn't let tonight be that day.

~x~x~x~

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out. I had surgery last Friday and I've had a lot of college work to do. Between healing and school, I haven't had time to write. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!

The next day at work crushed Wilson's soul. House was ignoring him. More than that, he was avoiding him. He knew he had hurt the man the night before, but some part of him, some naive part, had hoped that they could still be friends until Bobby got bored and moved on. He was barely able to get any work done, unable to concentrate for any length of time. He was glad he didn't have any patient meetings today. That seemed to be the only thing he had going for him. Wilson spent the entire day holed up in his office, not even leaving for clinic duty. When lunch rolled around, he just ignored it. He felt like he would throw up if he ate anything right now. Around four, there was a timid knock on his door.

“Come in.” he sighed. When the door opened, he surprised to see Doctor Cameron standing on the other side. He figured none of House's kids would be allowed to speak to him. “Does House know you're here?” he asked tiredly. She closed the door and sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk.

“No.” she said simply. “What happened between the two of you?” she asked, voice full of sympathy.

“What, House didn't tell you?” he asked in annoyance. He was sure the other man would be blasting their dirty laundry all over the hospital by now.

“No, he didn't. He won't say anything about it. He's in a horrid mood, so I know _something_ happened, but I don't know what.” Wilson sighed and put his head in his hands. He looked back up at Cameron, sorrow filling his brown eyes.

“I broke up with him.” he said.

“But, why? You two looked so happy yesterday.” she was trying to understand, Wilson could see that.

“I just did. I had to.” That was as much as he was willing to explain and, by her expression, it seemed Cameron finally understood that. She was quiet for a moment, studying his face, before her brows furrowed.

“Where did you get that bruise on your cheek? Did House do that when you broke up with him?” she asked, tone serious now.

“No!” Wilson said emphatically. He reigned himself in before speaking again. “No. He didn't do it. He would never. I took a walk in the park last night to clear my head and these guys were playing soccer. I must have gotten in the way because the ball hit me in the face. It's fine, nothing to worry about.” Cameron narrowed her eyes a him, searching him for a tell.

“Okay.” she said, voice full of suspicion. She stood and left his office, closing the door behind her. Wilson let his head drop onto his desk. That was a close call.

~x~x~x~

Cameron pushed the door to House's office open and walked up to his desk. He was throwing his ball up in the air and catching it, so she stood there until she was sure she had his attention.

“What?!” he snapped, looking up at her with angry, blue eyes.

“I thought you would want to know I talked with Wilson.” she said. House's eyes narrowed and he went back to throwing the ball.

“Why the hell would I want to know that?!” he asked irritably. Cameron raised her brows. “And, don't you have more important things to be doing _other_ than snooping in my personal life?”

“I was just talking to a friend, geez.” she said softly. “By the way, you might want to check on him. He had a bruise on his face and his story was shaky at best.” House rolled his eyes as he caught the ball. He looked over at Cameron.

“You're just looking for a reason for me to swoop in like a knight. Newsflash, I'm the villain.” he said in a perfect deadpan.

“Yeah. Right.” Cameron said under her breath, turning to walk away. She left the office and House put the ball down on the desk. Surely it was nothing. He remembered the split lip from the day before and now, there's a bruise on Wilson's cheek? Either something was going on or Wilson was the clumsiest person in the universe. Still, he was angry enough that he didn't care enough to look into it at the moment. Two tiny injuries were of no consequence to him. But, it was something to keep in mind, should any other injuries show up.

~x~x~x~

Wilson packed up his things slowly. He wasn't looking forward to going back to Bobby's hotel room. Last night, after he left House's apartment, Bobby took him by his own to get some clothes and toiletries for an extended stay at the hotel. He had no choice but to abide by what Bobby said and so, he had effectively moved into the Marriott. Now, he was expected to return for whatever games Bobby wanted to play. When he walked out the door, he saw House standing outside his own door. The man turned and stepped back into his office when he saw Wilson. Wilson's heart broke a little more at that. It hurt that House couldn't even stand to look at him anymore. He made his way to his car and headed to the hotel.

Wilson was standing beside the bed, naked with tears in his eyes, getting ready to retreat to the shower. Bobby, who was lounging in the bed, suddenly spoke up.

“Tell me you love me.” he said, sitting up. Wilson was taken by surprise at the demand and opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to come up with anything to say. Bobby got off the bed and walked around to where Wilson was gaping. “Tell me you love me.” he demanded again. Wilson thought about it. He could acquiesce and just say it. But, that wasn't something he wanted to share with Bobby because it was so far from the truth. He loved House. Not Bobby.

“No.” he said. Bobby glared.

“Tell me you love me!” he demanded again.

“No.” Wilson said firmly. Suddenly, a fist was flying at Wilson's face. He flinched and the impact of the fist knocked him to the ground. Wilson held his face as he looked up at Bobby, fear in his eyes.

“Go get a shower!” Bobby spat. Wilson clambered up and rushed off to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and looked at himself in the mirror. His right cheek and eye were red. He knew he was going to have a black eye the next day. How was he going to keep _this_ secret? Wilson got in the shower and took his time cleaning up.


End file.
